


Belong

by SleepsWithCoyotes



Category: Loveless
Genre: Community: ij porn_battle, M/M, Mild D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepsWithCoyotes/pseuds/SleepsWithCoyotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Ritsuka wants, Ritsuka will have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Written for porn_battle. Prompt was: _Loveless, Soubi/Ritsuka, where I belong_

Ritsuka looks wary as Soubi bends to kiss him, even now. Black ears tilt at a decidedly dubious angle, and the boy watches him like a hawk, eyes questioning his motives. It stings to see that when he knows Ritsuka cares for him, even if only a little; wants him, if only for now; trusts him...perhaps. He doesn't know. They're fine until he tries to give Ritsuka what he thinks Ritsuka wants, and he hates the fact that this has always been confusing between them, that he's the one who made it confusing.

Ritsuka is stiff in his arms at first, but he warms after a moment as Soubi takes his time, cards his fingers through Ritsuka's hair and strokes the tender bases of telltale ears. Ritsuka's soft moan is mostly breath, nearly a purr, as Soubi's hand slides down the boy's spine to rest at the small of his back. He can feel the muscles just below twitch in time with Ritsuka's tail, a sensation he'd nearly forgotten until Seimei sent him here, ordered him.

Ritsuka is growing up, looks a little more like Seimei now, or so people tell them. Soubi can't see it, won't see it. Ritsuka is Ritsuka.

Shy little gasps fill his ears as he lifts his head to nuzzle dark hair away from a bared neck. He nibbles the soft lobe of a human ear, draws a snaking path with his tongue down the tipped-back line of Ritsuka's throat, purrs a little himself when the boy's hands tighten on his shoulders, holding him there. He can feel the indecisive sway of his Sacrifice, can tell that Ritsuka is on the verge of stumbling back towards the couch and pulling him along, pulling him down on top of the boy, and he...he can do this, because it's Ritsuka. But it's wrong, and he doesn't think he'll enjoy it very much.

He doesn't want to fuck Ritsuka. He's never lied about that. But he _wants_ Ritsuka, and what Ritsuka wants, Ritsuka will have.

Hands pushing at his shoulders snap him out of his daze, and he does his best to hide the uneasy frustration that flutters in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't scare Ritsuka for the world, but it seems to be all he can do; if the boy trusted him, then he wouldn't be given those searching looks, like now.

"Soubi." Ritsuka still has to reach up, but his hand slides easily to rest at Soubi's nape, kneading against the tension there. The boy is frowning now, and Soubi tries consciously to relax. A tense Fighter looming over him might be threatening. It's not Ritsuka's fault Soubi is uncomfortable, torn.

He doesn't know what to think when Ritsuka's face abruptly clears, dusty violet eyes regarding him with solemn thoroughness. It feels like Ritsuka is weighing him, coming to some momentous decision, and he's abruptly terrified that it will be one that leaves him alone, without even this. He wants to beg, drop to his knees, but Ritsuka would hate that.

The boy's hands on his shoulders are heavy as stones.

"Soubi," Ritsuka says, his voice kind and embarrassed, unpracticed still in being firm. "Soubi. Down."

"Ritsuka?" He's afraid to misunderstand.

"Down," Ritsuka says, pressing on his shoulders still. "For me."

He wants to ask-- _Is this an order?_ \--but he can't speak, afraid to ruin everything. Ritsuka has never....

But as Soubi drops with all his old grace to his knees, Ritsuka smiles, cups Soubi's face and leans over _him,_ holds his head still as the boy drops light kisses over his closed lids, his brow, his lips. "Don't touch," Ritsuka murmurs when Soubi's hands find his Sacrifice's hips, "not yet."

Ritsuka is blushing, but Soubi is achingly hard, a faint pleading sound half-strangling in the back of his throat. This is what he wants, what he's always wanted, and when Ritsuka's hands drop, curve to fit his neck like a collar, it's all he can do to keep control, keep breathing.

"It's okay," Ritsuka says. "It's okay now."

There's no hesitation in him at all as he guides Soubi's head where he wants it, hands knotted in Soubi's hair, making Soubi his.


End file.
